Fool's Paradise
by Amanita Lestrange
Summary: What gives with the latest developments in Ebony/AngieJ's Paradise series? Some cookies give you Indigestion: H/H,H/R, Sirius/Angelina????


An' see ye not yon narrow road,

Indigestion

or

Fool's Paradise

or

There's Something About Harry

by Amanita Lestrange, being a sequel to Stranger Than Paradise, based on the Trouble in Paradise fanfic by the incomparable Ebony/AngieJ, itself based on the works of JKRowling, with tips of the wizzard's hat to Terry Pratchett, L Frank Baum, Lewis Carrol and the folks who own the rights to my favorite movie: Casablanca. All rights belong to them...

Thanks to Ebony for letting me turn the pixies loose.

WARNING

PG-13, for stuff you might be embarrassed to explain to the kiddies

This fanfic touches on religious and sexual themes, which, though humorously treated, may be disturbing to some...My writing style still has too many commas. You have been duly warned...so fasten your seat belts, secure all beverages, make sure your screens are in the upright and locked position, and now

On with the show!

__

An' see ye not yon narrow road,

All set about with thorns and briars.

That is the path of righteousness,

Though after it but few inquires.

An' see ye not yon braid, braid road,

That lies across the lily leaven.

That is the road that leads to Hell,

Though some calls it the road to Heaven.

An' see ye not yon bonny road,

that winds about the ferny brae.

That is the road to fair Elfland

Where you and I this night maun gae.

Thomas the Rhymer

__

"In that_ direction," the Cat said, waving its right paw round, "lives a Hatter: and in _that_ direction," waving the other paw, "lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad."_

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.

"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "We're all mad here."

Lewis Carrol, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

I'd thought everything was settled, once Peter was packed off to Azkaban. Everyone welcomed the newest Weasley grandchild, even Percy and Penelope had been won over by darling Heather. Ron and Hermione and their little girl were happy once more, or so I thought. All's well that end's well right? Not in this Universe...

If you ask me, the trouble started with Ron's agent. Laureen Bedlam. That woman was part-Canadian, part-Hellcat, and all trouble. Of course Ron couldn't keep out of her bed anymore than he could have stopped breathing. Call it fate, call it hormones, call it a plot device with bells on, but when Hermione found out about it she went Cabalistic. Threatened to hex them all into the middle of next Tuesday. Fortunately I wasn't around, I was trying to learn to mind my own business. I kept telling myself I wasn't a reporter any more, though I was still free-lancing. Just the occasional feature article or interview to keep my wand in. 

Hermione was having the time of her life playing the woman wronged: rehearsing her grievances to every tabloid and gossip columnist in our world. She was England's Queen of Broken Hearts and glorying in every minute of it. Right up until the memorable moment when Sirius Black jerked the magic carpet right out from under her feet.

Carolyn Hex is the Daily Prophet's agony aunt. Her advice column, Owl Me About It, is the first thing many witches turn to when they sit down to their morning tea and crumpets. The morning that letter came out, you could hear teacups dropping like stunned unicorns all over magical Britain. 

Dear Carolyn,

I am writing to you about my Godson. He is a wonderful caring boy who has seen much sorrow and hardship in his life. The only woman he ever loved fell for someone else. Six years ago, when their relationship was getting serious, she found out that this other man was cheating on her. Hurt, she sought out my Godson for comfort, and he at last confessed his feelings for her. I'd never seen two people so happy, but my Godson insisted that she belonged with the other guy even though he hurt her so terribly. I only want my Godson to be happy, but I think he's off his nut. What do you think?

Seriously concerned from Ayr

Dear Serious,

I think you're right. The kid's a nut case. The poor girl's going have a rude awakening when she figures that out. My advice is to put a memory charm on her and send her home to guy number one. He may be unfaithful but at least he's sane.

Carolyn

It didn't take much for us all to read between the lines of this disturbing little fairy tale. Hermione realized she'd discovered the reason for the NC-17 dreams (_I_ never thought of doing That with a puffskein), her estrangement from her husband Ron, and incidentally, the whereabouts of her favorite pair of socks which had disappeared six years ago during the now notorious Lost Weekend. She was furious not just with Ron, Harry, and Sirius but with the entire wizarding world (I hate to say it, but you know how these Muggle-borns are. Sometimes I think the Society has a point, not that I'd ever let Rhiane the Rhinestone Rhinoceros know that). Hermione resigned from the Covenant, which of course threw the whole wizarding world into a panic, and disappeared. People were cowering in their dragonhide boots and expecting the return of You Know Who at any moment. All of sudden, people weren't quite so willing to say The Name. I wasn't too upset, mind you. I've always thought the girl was a pain. But it did bug me that Sirius and Harry had taken it on themselves to rearrange her mind. Who did they think they were? 

But I had troubles of my own.

I should have known something was amiss when the owls started showing up with next week's Daily Prophets. It was a nuisance at first, because having to read my articles before I'd written them took all the fun out of my job. Besides that the WWN listings were all wrong, which made it awfully hard to keep up with my favorite Soaps, but once I realized that the wizarding stock market statistics were dead on but a week early...well, what would you do? I invested discretely, just for myself and Fred at first, then for a few other close friends. Of course they all wanted to know my secret but I wisely kept mum about it. I'd never be rich enough to buy a controlling interest in Malfosoft, but Fred and I were able to remodel the kitchen and spend a lovely holiday in wizarding Minorca...and then I received a delivery that scared the beJanus out of me...

Four Dead in Skyway Pile Up! Four wizarding pictures waved with macabre cheerfulness from the front page, black and white images smiling up at me. Three of them I didn't know. The fourth one...I gulped and ran for the bathroom, but I didn't make it.

I Banished the mess from the living room carpet, made myself a cup of tea in the kitchen and walked shakily back to the other room. The offending picture was still there, lying on the sofa. It was me. Angelina Johnson Weasley, dead at thirty-four.

I had one week to live, or one week to change history. I thought of going straight to the Ministry of Magic; this had to be one for the Department of Mysteries...but I wasn't sure they'd even believe me. They'd think it was a Gred and Forge hoax, and if I tried to prove it by telling them about my stock market dodge, they'd think I was covering up for insider trading or something. Those Ministry types have no imagination. There was only one wizard to call on in a situation like this, and I had no idea how to even find him...but I knew of someone who might be able to help.

With a shaky hand I grabbed a sprinkling of Floo powder from the shelf and tossed it into the fire.

"Remus Lupin!" I said clearly, and tumbled out of a fireplace somewhere in Surrey.

I saw right away that I should've owled first. Well, it could've been worse, at least Anya wasn't with me. Anyway once he and my brother-in-law got their clothes back on, I told them why I'd come. Of course George knew about my investing prowess, but if Fred had already let him in on my secret, he was a better actor than I had realized.

"Sounds like somebody's been messing about with Time," he said. "Definitely dodgy."

"Yes, well," said Remus Lupin, an odd, closed expression on his face. 

"I want to see Sirius Black," I said, "and I want to see him now!"

"It might be better for you to forget all about it."

"Forget that I'm going to be killed in a week!? How do you expect me to -- oh no!" 

"Expelliarmus!" That was George. He caught Lupin's wand neatly and passed it over to me. 

"I thought we were friends," Lupin said reproachfully.

"Oh we are," said George. "But Angelina here is family. And your lot have done enough obliviating already. Now," he said, and to one who only thought of him as one of the light-hearted funloving Weasley twins, the change in his voice and manner would have been astounding, "Get Sirius Black."

I had plenty of time for misgiving as George and I waited. Sirius was one of the most powerful wizards of our time: Imperial Grand Wizard of the Order of Light, Arch-Chancellor, Covenant-Master...and I was just Angelina Johnson Weasley, sometime journalist, sports writer, housewitch and all around busybody. But if that Prophet article was right, and I had no reason at all to suppose it wasn't, I didn't have much to lose. Sixty seconds to the minute, sixty minutes to the hour, twenty-four hours to the day, seven days to the week: all our days are numbered and mine were numbering less and less with every tick of the clock on Lupin's wall. It had twelve divisions, ranging from Sound Asleep to Murderous Intent And No Human Conscience. If I'd had a hand on it, it would've been pointing to Mad as Hell.

After five more interminable minutes, a big black dog bounded out of the fireplace. I was still wondering how Sirius could have managed to speak his destination in dog form when he re-transformed. He was wearing the elaborate dress robes of the Head of the Order, including the sparkling sequinned hat with the word "Wizzard" embroidered on it. He hadn't been able to spell _Marauders'_ either.

I passed him the newspaper without a word. He drew up a chair with a wave of his wand and sat himself down on it, examining the paper carefully.

"Where did this come from?"

"I've been getting them by owl post, everyday since January."

"Who else knows?" he asked.

"Only Fred...as far as I know, he hasn't told anyone else, even George."

"Nope." said George. "He said it was _your_ secret and wild hipppogriffs wouldn't drag it out of him. But I want an explanation."

"Well, so do I" said Sirius. "But Angelina, you realize, even if we do find out what all this is about...we may not be able to change anything. You can not escape your destiny."

"Well, of course she can't. It wouldn't _be_ much of a destiny if you could escape it," George pointed out. I glared at him. 

"If someone's messing around with time, shouldn't we go to the Ministry about it?" I asked. "They'd believe Sirius Black, wouldn't they?"

"No doubt they would," said Sirius. "Unfortunately, it's not an option. Not one that I care to consider. You've no idea of the consequences."

I sniffed audibly. Since when had Sirius Black ever considered the consequences? 

He smiled at me, the smile that had driven witches to despair for the last 15 years. I hate telepaths.

"Let me tell you a story, Angelina."

"Not another fairy tale, Sirius. I'm a reporter, all I want is the facts. "

"It's not a fairy tale, Angelina. It's real life in wizarding Britain. Or what passes for it. Do any of us really know what reality is?"

"Fine time for you to wax philosophical, after ruining three people's lives! It's your fault Ron and Hermione's marriage was so miserable! Casting a charm on her to make her forget she'd fallen in love with Harry and that he really loved her??? And you dare accuse me of interfering in other people's business!"

"There you go with the "really" again. " Sirius put his hand up to his face, pressing his knuckles against his chin in a philosophical gesture. "Angelina, a great deal of what we consider reality depends upon a certain point of view." He sighed. "But I'm rambling. Angelina, are you ready to go on an _incredible_ journey?"

"If it's the Next Great Adventure, I'll pass."

"Not Death, Angelina. Avalon!"

I couldn't believe it. Avalon, the Sourcerer's Isle... Its portal was said to be closed to all of mortal race. The writer in me winced at the unfortunate assonance, but the reporter in me...well, the aforementioned wild hippogriffs couldn't have kept me away. 

"Of course I'll go...but what about Fred and Malinda?"

"Oh, George and Remus can come up with some way to account for your absence. My old friend Moony's quite good at that sort of thing."

"Right," I said, and we were on our way. The details of our journey cannot be told. They'd just slow the story down, anyway. In less time than it takes to tell, Sirius and I were standing on a grassy hilltop under a sky few mortals have ever seen with waking eyes.

"I hope I didn't die coming through the portal," I said. Queen Morgana was supposed to have a very close minded attitude toward uninvited guests. Welcoming processions generally featured an axe.

"Oh, it's all her fancy that," Sirius muttered. "They never executes anyone."

"What?" But I didn't want explanations, I just wanted to feast my senses. The sky was an extraordinary twilit blue, but filled with all the sparkling stars of a moonless night. The meadows shone with dew, each drop an infinite prism, reflecting all the beauties of the night, and yet the grass, when I fell onto my knees in rapture, was dry. Perfect for sitting, or lying on. Dew drops shone around me like lost diamonds. And there was Sirius Black looking down at me...tall, lean, impossibly brave and wise and damn good-looking...it's a good thing he was still wearing that silly hat.

"Careful, Angelina" Sirius smiled. Right then, I forgave Harry. You'd have to be made of stone not to fall in love in a place like this. 

"I suppose that's what you wanted me to see," I said. "Can we go home now?" I was thinking as hard as I could about Fred and Malinda, but a siren voice was singing in my mind. One night of fire, stolen from heaven...would it really matter so much?

"Wait," said Sirius.

The air smelled like golden apples taste, recalling the ancient name of this place: Aphellind, the Apple-land. A road stretched away from me, winding among the ferny banks in the endless twilight of the land that never was. And down it I saw, moving like colored shadows, all the sad parted lovers of history. There was Guenevere and her Lancelot , Tristan and Isolde, Heloise and Abelard, Romeo and Juliet, Arthur and Margawse, Merlyn and Nimue, Ilse and Rick. I saw Harry and Hermione among them, lost to the world, walking with their arms about each others waists, so that they made an X from behind. And there I saw, to my wonder, Hermione and Ron, and Ron and Laureen.

"Their story's not finished" Sirius said, answering my thought. 

"You tried to finish it though, didn't you?" I said. "Why did you choose the end for them...why not let them decide for themselves."

"Because of the Prophecy and the Covenant. A wrong choice would have meant the end of our world, Angelina."

I laughed, shocking him. "Dragon dung!" I said. He blinked. I don't suppose anyone had talked to him that way since he became Head of the Order. But I felt it was about time someone did. "You know," I said, "I never realized before how lucky I was to have Professor Trelawney for Divination. I learned better than to trust my future to what somebody thought they saw in the bottom of a teacup. And if you care so much about your blasted covenant, why didn't you think of it before dragging Hermione's name through the mud?"

"She's still a saint in your eyes, isn't she?" he said heavily. "Well, not in mine. She needn't have come here, Angelina. She had no right to intrude on him. She knew damn well what this place was. He was happy, as happy as he could have been, considering. And then she came and damn near ruined everything. "

"Harry was her friend, why shouldn't she have sought him out? You know, Professor Prince taught us in Muggle Studies that we'd got rid of the Double Standard when we split with the Muggle world, but you seem dead set on bringing it back singlehanded. And you're a fine one to talk about minding your own business, after what you pulled."

Sirius sighed. "Harry and Hermione were both raised by Muggles, Angelina. And Molly Weasley might as well have been. You know what she thinks of scarlet women. Professor Prince was an idealist. And so are you, I might add. It's fine to say I should've minded my own business, but I had a wizard's debt to pay. I had no choice Angelina. None."

"We all have choices, Sirius, " I said.

"Maybe. I know you aren't satisfied with my explanations. Well, neither was Harry. I had to do a lot of convincing to persuade him to let Hermione go...but she would have died if she'd stayed here. As will we, if we remain too long. Faerie's a nice place to visit, but only a Sourcerer like Harry can live here. Hermione's a powerful witch, but she's no where near as powerful as that."

"Well that I understand, I think. We had it in Theory of Magic. But why couldn't they have gone back together?"

"Because then Ron would have died."

"You can't know that" I protested. "Anyway I don't believe it. Ron's not the sort to die of a broken heart."

"Anyone can die of being murdered, Angelina. Harry stopped me from becoming a killer. Remus and I had a wizard's debt to keep him from becoming the same."

"But--" I could understand Ron trying to kill Harry. A false lover he might be, but that wouldn't be an excuse in his mind for Harry to mess around with his girl. But Harry, kill Ron? It was unthinkable. How could he? Why would he? 

The cavalcade of lost loves had gone by...all but two. A last couple drifted past. A King and Queen, proud and majestic, the man in the prime of life, the woman, older than he but radiant as the sun and moon. She was his first, the very first, and only love, and he...I gave a cry and covered my face with my hands. But their image was burned on my brain.

Everyone knows about the eternal triangle. But there's another story, The Oldest Story of All, the story of a love so forbidden that the Muggles have censored it from their Holy Books, leaving only a question to puzzle the exegetists. _Who did Cain marry_? Only the poet geniuses of ancient Greece had dared to tell that tale aloud...I knew who that King was: I didn't need to see the winged shadow of the Sphinx flying over him to guess his name.

"You're barking!" I said. "Er, sorry." I added, at his reproachful look. " But let's get a grip on ourselves. Hermione may be a lot of things but Harry's mum she's not. And Harry's no Oedipus."

"In the real world, Angelina. But think where you are."

"Well, nowhere really." I frowned. Magical theory was never my best subject and this stuff was way out of my depth. "This place is just real inside Harry's head, but made real to us, because he believes in it. Right?" The droning voice of Professor Binns sounded in my mind: collective reality: what we call real life, exists only because we've all decided to believe in it, and it's stable only because of the Muggles. If they didn't exist we'd have had to invent them, or let all our world fade into the nothingness of forgotten dreams. For where is a dream when the sleeper awakes?

"Right," said Sirius. I was glad he understood what I was thinking, because I wasn't sure I did. "But Harry is the most powerful kind of Wizard: a Sourcerer. You know ordinary conjuring only lasts a little while, but the conjuring of a Sourcerer spins reality around itself. That's why Harry has to spend so much time away from what we call reality. He would overwhelm it. Our world would cease to be what it is, and become what Harry wants to think it is. But not Harry's conscious thoughts only, but the whole fabric of his mind, conscious and unconscious. And so you see the problem. At some level, long ago, maybe as long ago as when he first met them, Harry adopted Ron and Hermione as his surrogate parents. Do you understand, Angelina?"

I shook my head slowly.

"He can't help wanting Hermione. He can't help believing he's wrong to do so. He can't help feeling Hermione can never be properly his as long as Ron's alive. These things are stamped so deeply into his mind that there's no escaping them. I knew that if he and Hermione remained lovers and returned to the primary reality, Ron would die at his hands."

"But that's just it! How could you know?"

"Because," said Sirius solemnly, "it's already happened. Twice now. That's the answer to the riddles, including your mysterious newspapers."

I'd almost forgotten about that. 

"Then you know where they came from?" 

"Not where, but when. The Cabalistica is very anxious to escape our current reality, and return to the other...let's call it reality prime. The one where Ron died at Harry's hands and Voldemort never died at all."

My head was starting to ache.

"You see there's not just one Missing Week. There were several. Three times the Covenant was formed and Ron, Harry and Hermione set off for Tartarus. Twice they failed to return. So...we altered time and tried again. And again."

"But nobody's supposed to change time." I wailed. "Nobody!"

Sirius shrugged. "You'd prefer it if Voldemort had won?"

I shook my head mutely.

Then I remembered what was really important. 

"This means I'm _not_ going to die in a week, doesn't it? But the stock market predictions all came true!"

"Yes, it seems the Cabalistica have been using you to force a switch in realities. Somehow they've found out about the time swap and they've been trying to reverse it ever since. Their main target seems to be Hermione. If she were to renew her affair with Harry, the inertial effects would restore time to its original channel and disaster would overtake us all. But they needed someone to prod her into action. Your prying was the trigger But it seems you have a friend on the inside. I doubt you were meant to see yourself dead on the Prophet's front page."

"I'll be damned. Rhiane the Rhinestone Rhino must've stuck out her elegant neck for the Chocolate Frog. Will wonders never cease?"

"I hope not," said Sirius.

"When did you figure all this out?" I asked.

"Just now of course. Fortunately...we still have enough time."

"But the covenant's still broken." I said. "What about Hermione, and Ron and Harry?"

Sirius favored me with that killer smile again. "I thought you were going to mind your own business. Thanks to your warning, we have another clue that will help us to stop Cabalistica before it's too late. That's what's really important. As for the problems of three little people..."

"They don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world," I finished. "Now let's get out of here, while we've still got the makings of a beautiful friendship."

THE END

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed Stranger Than Paradise: Here's the honor roll--

Terra Incognita, Gryffindor, Cygnus, magical*little*me, rave,Sphinx,Al,Rhiannon ApMathonway, Penny,Static, AndreaBonfanti, Five by Five, Moriel, Kei, Elanor Gamgee, yael, starling,Keith Fraser, Zoe, Parker Brown Nesbit, ~*Ginny*~, , Heidi Tandy, Crazy Ivan/John Walton, Banana_Republic, Dadgrid, minx, Simon (Dr. Branford!), Morrighan, Fantasy Freak, hgw, Minzzer, Tessie,AngieJ (thanks Eb!), karina karob_7

I dearly love you all...


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